Darrick let out a sneer, brushing his fingers over his eye. The scene of that wine bottle crashing into his eye replayed over and over in his mind like a horror movie. For years, he'd hidden away, too ashamed to show his face. But now, with Johnny gone and the Bradford family in shambles, his chance had finally arrived.
He wanted Clara to pay, to take everything from her—her sight, her legs—leaving her as nothing more than a lifeless doll trapped in bed. Just imagining it sent a thrill through him, his raspy laughter echoing like wind through a torn sail, eerie and unsettling.
Quinn was silent, huddled in a corner, a pool of fear beneath her. The more she suffered, the deeper her hatred for Clara grew. If not for Clara, her life would be smooth sailing.
Two days later, Greysen walked out of the police station, his personal drama now the talk of the town, with relatives from both sides arguing and giving him relentless headaches. He was desperate to get Tyler to sign the stock contract, but Tyler's phone was unreachable.
Unbeknownst to him, Tyler was stuck at Ryan's villa, locked in a room without his phone, unable to do anything. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he begged Cole, “Cole, I've been loyal to the company for ages. I'm only considering selling my shares to Greysen because I'm being threatened. If I don't, I'm done for. It's not that I don't trust Ryan and Clara.”
Tyler was on edge, terrified the mysterious threat would catch up to him. But Cole, ever the skeptic, didn't believe a word of it. Tyler was left with nothing but his own frustration.
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